The #1 Drew

    OK, so Google me, and you’ll quickly run across a fact of extra medium interest to you:

    I am not the #1 Drew Thompson in the universe.

    In fact, I am #8.  And although I don’t have any political, theatrical or even career plans as of yet, it would be nice to be in the #1 spot, in case I need it in order to get on Dancing with the Stars or become an ambassador or something.

    So.  Becoming the #1 me.

    My first plan was to try and increase my own internet presence, which (apart from this cultural juggernaut of a blog and some pictures of my third nipple on medical websites) is negligible.

    I think you all should know that WordPress offered to help me “stand out from the crowd with a Premium theme!”  Which I thought about before I realized it was the dumbest idea ever, and also would cost money, and also I’m still in love with my almost chillingly crisp and original Redoable Lite theme (thanks, Dean J Robinson!).

    Instead, I think my best option is to 1) sustain my current popularity by writing drippingly sarcastic entries at completely random intervals, 2) asking Mandy to plug me on her superblog every time I write something, and 3) quietly sabotage all other Drew Thompsons who stand in my way of total nomen-domination.

    So here’s my plan to derail the top 7 Drew Thompsons in the galaxy:

  1. The number 1 Drew Thompson is the China Director for the Nixon Center.  I even heard him on the radio once.  He’s big time.  He has all these papers he’s authored on China and foreign policy, including my personal favorite, “Hu’s Really in Control in China?” (Foreign Policy, 17 January 2011).  Seriously, that’s real.  So what I’m going to do is try make a pattern of his awful name pun papers (authored by, of course, Drew Thompson) and get him quietly fired or demoted.  Coming soon to the Nixon Center database:  “Japan Needs a Hiro”, “Ahmed the President of Egypt, and He Was Really Nice”, “Serb’s Up in Bosnia”, “Colombian Representatives Don’t Juan More Taxes”, “Immigrants Cross the Congo Line”, and “Germany to France:  Hans Off My Internal Affairs!”
  2. Andrew Charles Thompson, San Francisco banker for Wells Fargo.   Solid, upstanding member of the community.  No embarrassing publications or anything.  Looks like the real upwardly mobile type.  Plan:  use that to my advantage, by sending him a letter from John G. Stumph, President and CEO of Wells Fargo that runs as follows:
  3. Dear Andrew:

    Last week, after I finished my morning roll in my own money, I was taking a bubble bath and looking over employee records. I noticed you and your team have been doing some really great work on that one financial project that you know about.

    I congratulate you, but I must let you know that working under a nickname like “Drew” could jeopardize your future career.  People want something solid and reliable, and the name Drew conjures up images of schoolboys in dresses to me.  Nicknames are all well and good among friends, but please hereafter refer to yourself as Andrew in all public and electronic communications.  Yours truly–Stumphy.

  4. and
  5. are both athletes:  a baseball player in Florida and a senior LaCrosse midfielder at UVA.  Fortunately, all I have to do is wait on these guys, since the odds of their going pro or becoming famous are microscopic.  They will fade into anonymity, like my old high school football teammate, Benji Roethlisberger.
  6. There is a music mixing outfit on Facebook that operates out of Umass Lowell called Drew Thompson Hooke.  They do “Studio Quality Post Production Mixing Remixing Mastering Remastering & Restoration @ College Prices” apparently.  Of course, break dance fighting would be the natural choice for any confrontation, but they are thousands of miles away.  I can’t touch them, except to note:  while  not many people at the Department of Homeland Security know it, they are in fact a terrorist sleeper cell for the Massachusetts Tea Party.  If that ever goes public, they’re gone.  Thanks, Big Brother.
  7. The Number 6 Drew Thompson is an actor from Northern Ireland, and you can find him on IMDb.  For those of you who don’t recognize him, I am sure we all remember Marty from Sleeping With Prostitutes (2002), and “Delivery Guy” from Miss Conception (2008).  In thinking about this Drew, though, it’s hard for me to imagine any way to make him any less popular.  It’s going to have to come down to straight bribery here.  I will use my contacts to land him a role in the Island Player’s production of Father of the Bride, opening in March of 2011.  Condition:  you must from now on go by the stage name lyich McBigface.
  8. That leaves only one, people.  Only one man who can stand in my way of pop culture Drew Thompson supremacy.  As we all know, it’s only a short hop from there to domination of the entire Drew moniker, and then I go to work on the other D names.

  9. The last Drew Thompson fancies himself a photographer.  You can find him on Flickr.  He seems to like faces.  OK, so I was at a loss until I saw his little face label avatar thingy:
  10. Jackpot.  Drew Thompson, I hereby, in the presence of both of these readers, challenge you to a moustache competition.  Person with the best stache wins.  Loser has to pretend to be the other Drew Thompson forever.  Ready, go:








Unhappy Holidays

Well, it’s December, and we all know what that means–yes, it’s national Bingo Month.  And in honor of everyone still making the “B-52!” joke, here’s a little tale for all of you fans of obscure holidays.

Once upon a time, Christmas Day (Dec. 25) woke up to the sound of quite a clatter, and ran outside to see what was the matter.

It was a mob.  With sticks.  A group of unruly people yelling and jeering at him.

“What’s the matter?” asked Christmas.  “You are, Chris,” said a surly-looking fellow with bright red cheeks.  “You think you’re so special.”

“Who are you?” asked Christmas.

“That’s exactly the problem!” the man shouted.  “People don’t know who I am–you could walk right past me and never know you missed Eat A Red Apple Day (Dec. 1).  It’s your self-important holiday domination ruining the fun appley spirit that I can bring to boys and girls everywhere.”

“Yeah,” piped up a rotund little boy with flour in his hair and grease on his chin, standing with a handful of other kids.  “There are lots more of us than you probably realize.  And thanks to your bloated status, people can go their whole lives without enjoying experiences like National Fritters Day (Dec. 2), National Brownie Day (Dec. 8), National Bouillabaisse Day (Dec. 14), or National Roast Suckling Pig Day (Dec. 18).”

“What the crap is Bouillabaisse?” Christmas asked.

A little Frenchman from the group began hopping up and down and pulling in his moustaches.  “Idiot!  It is a soup or stew containing several kinds of fish and often shellfish, usually combined with olive oil, tomatoes, and saffron, as everyone with a brain knows!”

“And who’s that old man in the Everlast shorts, crying his eyes out and drinking tea?”

“That’s your first victim, Boxing Day (Dec. 26),” said Fritter.  “He’s been forgotten around here for so long that he’s had to move overseas, to places where they still play cricket.”

“Ouch,” said Christmas.  “That’s pretty rough.”

“What do you know about rough?” said a disheveled lady in chacos.  “Wear Brown Shoes Day has never been less popular than it is now.”

“Oh, it’s not so bad,” slurred a fat man in a tub with a bottle of whiskey (Bathtub Party Day and Repeal Day, both Dec. 5).

“Please, señor, we are muy triste living in such isolation,” said International Children’s Day (Dec. 12).

“Duh hoy hoy uckaloo!”  “Who was that?” asked Christmas.

“Don’t mind him, that’s just Ding-a-Ling Day (Dec. 12).”  This was spoken by a woman with a gun, a porn video and copy of the Koran.  She was also nibbling on something.  “Let’s get back to the issue.  You’ve taken over all of National Bingo Month, you’ve dominated Thanksgiving, and some stores even have your decorations up before Increase Your Psychic Powers Day (Oct. 31).  That’s just flat out too much for one holiday.”

“Bill of Rights Day/National Lemon Cupcake Day (Dec. 15) is right,” said a pale stranger in white, slowly advancing up the sidewalk to the front door.  Next to him was a sour-looking woman in a long cloak.  “This has gone too far.  And National Vinegar Day (Nov. 1) and I are here to make sure it never happens again.”

Christmas stepped back in alarm, reaching behind him for the door knob.  The pair was drawing closer, reaching out for the lapels on his bright red coat.  “So who are you?” asked Christmas, almost afraid to hear the answer.

“Well Christmas,” said the stranger, “I’m not surprised you don’t know.  With all of your popularity, it’s hard to remember someone as unimportant as…National Bicarbonate of Soda Day (Dec. 30)!”

The last thing Christmas heard before he lost consciousness was a growing hiss in his ears…


Color Wheel

So I was listening to the radio the other day and some guy was talking about a chartreuse (chartruese?) crystal decanter that his Mom used to have.  And so I was thinking, that’s weird.  Who has a pale purple set of crystal?  And then later he was talking about the decanter, and he said it was light green.

Setting aside the question of who has a pale green set of crystal (like witches, wood elves, and people who drink chai), I had to make an adjustment to my mental color wheel.  Chartreueuse is actually green, not purple.

But when I called up the color wheel in my mind, I pretty much realized that the name of every color I do not recognize is really light purple.

So if you’re ever talking to me about colors (of houses, T-shirts, internal organs), then you should know that this is what I’m working with:

PS–you should also know that in my stemware wheel, a decanter is a cup, only smaller.  Kind of like a hi-ball glass or a saucer.


Bumper Stickers

So I came up with some bumper sticker ideas that I’ve never seen, but might be big sellers.



The Rich Kids

So recently Forbes came out with their latest list of the 400 richest Americans.  They provide a brief bio of each, including the reason for their wealth.

Honestly, since I am a little tired today, I was looking for something that wouldn’t take too much work to make funny.


(I have only changed 3 facts in the following summary.  Everything else is true.)

Enjoy some highlights:

#1–Bill Gates, whoever that is.

However, 4 of the top ten are Waltons.  Contrary to popular belief, they made their money not from the wildly popular television drama set in depression-era America, but from a little known chain of stores mainly in the southern United States.

#17–Paul Allen.  Cofounded Microsoft, and is now suing Apple, Facebook, Google, ebay and others.  Apparently they have stolen his ideas and made some money from them that should be his.  Fortunately he has no children to feed.  Also invests in space travel.

#26–John Mars.  Mars the candy bars, not Mars the red planet (Gates owns that).  His dad invented M&M’s, and he had a horse named Snickers.  Also does pet food and health food, which should make you think.

#33–Edward Johnson, whose source of wealth is listed as “fidelity”.  Which got me pretty excited until I realized that’s the name of his company.

#35–Mark Zuckerberg, 26 year old Harvard dropout, owner of facebook.  So stay in school, kids.

#66–John Paul DeJoria.  Source of wealth is hair products and tequila.  (This is not one of the facts that I changed.)

#136–James Leprino.  Source listed as “cheese.”

#170–Jeremy Jacobs, “sports concessions.”  Apparently peanuts don’t cost $17.00 per bag to harvest and roast.

#182–Robert Rich, “last name.”

#238–Thomas Kaplan.  Got his B.A., B.S., M.A. and Ph.D. from Oxford.  Leased a field in East Texas that turned out to contain 2.4 trillion cubic feet of gas.  Spends his money on gold and wildcat conservation.

#252–Leandro Rizzuto, “Conair”, which I just saw recently.  Nicholas Cage, lots of things blowing up.  I guess it did pretty well.

#269–Anita Zucker, “chemicals”, which is apparently what they’re calling them nowadays.

Tied for #290–Jay Robert (J.B.) Pritzker, richest man in America to go by his initials.

Tied for #290–Gerald Ford, who I thought had passed away.

Tied #308–Richard Hayne, “salsa.”  He must have fantastic hip motion.

Tied #308–Jean (Gigi) Pritzker, richest woman in America with a (silly) nickname.

365–Frank Fertitta, casinos and Ultimate Fighting Championship.  So either people really do watch that, or his casinos are freaking awesome.

Tied #385–Tamara Gustavson, public storage.  Known as “Poor Tara” and “hey get over here”, Gustavson is the butt of billionaire jokes the world over.  Forced to rent mega-yachts for her soirees and to timeshare her South Pacific Island chain, she fetches coffee and cognac for the rest of the club at their annual Forbes get together.


Personal Logo

I have been thinking of making a personal logo.  In a world of over 6 billion people how else could I possibly stand out without, for example, having one foot that is much bigger than the other, or being an X-man (both of which come with some unpleasant side effects like having to pay double for your shoes and being Storm)?

Fortunately for me the people at wikiHow have created a guide for making a personal logo, and we know that they know what they’re talking about because all of the editors on their site have an internet connection.  After all, 23,230 people have read this article, and when was the last time that many people have been wrong about anything?

wikiHow has 9 steps to making one, so let’s get started.  Just remember, do your best and forget the rest.  The tip of the day is to breathe.  (Don’t forget the tip or you’ll die.)

1.        Define the reason you need a personal logo. Insecurity. Check.  Next step.

2.       Consider what products you intend to manufacture.  Mostly, happiness.  But I might also diversity into charisma or modular furniture.

3.       Use compliments to your advantage. This is a good idea, and I intend to do that at every opportunity.  After all, I wouldn’t have been voted “best all around” in high school if I didn’t!

4.       Choose a name that everyone likes. Nice one.  This has made me reconsider names like “Republican Exclusivist Deep Water Oil Drilling Equipment” and “Radical Islam for Everyone”.  As far as I know, there is only one thing that absolutely everyone likes, and it’s “Not Drowning.”

5.       Draw sketches.  Due to my technical computer skills limitations, I cannot share in real time all of the sketches I am now drawing.  In order to gain this ability I would have to walk through the related wikiHow post, “How to be Amazing,” which includes this picture (I am not lying):

6.       Be sure that the name will be appropriate in all situations. Wow, this more demanding than I thought.  OK, I have had to execute what is called a “revision” in the marketing biz, adding the tagline “unless you want to.”

7.       Keep it Simple. In the (ironically) somewhat complicated expansion on this advice, the wikiBigs note that it needs to be easy to scale up and down, and that too many colors can be expensive to print.  I have therefore removed the Hypercolor© great white shark.

8.       Test it out. This being a logo just for me, the testing phase went extremely well, and I replied positively almost 100% of the times I showed it to myself.

9.       Print it. Here, then, is my new personal logo:

Eat your heart out, Storm.


Maybe this happens

“You two are completely out of touch!” screamed Chaz.  “Do you even understand how your companies are affecting third world workers and polluting the oceans?”  As he swung his arm around, he spilled his morning chai on his WSP shirt.

“But honey, we’re doing it for you,” said Kathy, going through her purse for her Blackberry.  “We always wanted to you to have the best.  And who even cares about those other people?  To be honest, I’m not sure this ‘third world’ even exists.”

“Listen to your mother, Charlie,” said Charles, straightening his power tie in the mirror.  “We may be absolutely heartless conservatives, but we deserve our creature comforts.  America deserves them, because we’re the greatest nation on earth.  The thing you should be worried about is that since we’re losing the Bush tax cuts, your trust fund is dwindling to nothing because it’s going to fund Obama’s crazy socialist policies.  Besides, you’re only 17.  Wait until you’re my age, and I bet you see things differently.”

“I told you, Dad, it’s Chaz.  And I don’t want your blood money,” he fumed, kicking the doorframe with his Toms.  “Those people you care nothing about matter, and they matter to me.  If my trust fund can provide them with jobs and health care, then it’s well spent.”

“What should matter to you is your own future, honey.  We care about you.”

“Whatever,” said Chaz.  “I’ve got band practice in an hour, and it takes me that long to bike over there.”

“Why don’t you let me drive you, pal?” said Charles.

“Because,” called Chaz on his way out, “I don’t want to burn fossil fuels as a means to pursue my dreams.”  He slammed the door.

His parents paused, motionless, until they heard the squeaking of Chaz’s pedals fade into the distance.  Charles loosened his tie.  “That dude is f—ing wearing me out, Kat.  We are not the enemy.”

“I know, Che, but it’s working.”  She unfastened her pearl necklace and slipped out of her heels.  “Just a year or two more and we’ll be thankful for all the sacrifices we made.”

“I guess you’re right, babe.   Have you seen my Chacos?”

“They’re under the bed by the hemp.  And I know I’m right.  All teenagers rebel.  We’re just giving him something worth rebelling against.  And when he runs off to college or that farming commune in Ohio, we can go back to our life.”

Che came and put his arm around Kat.  “That will be a great day.  We’ll be so proud.  Maybe he’ll even become a great leader and rally the people against imperialism in Iraq and Afghanistan.”

“Or be an inner city educator or work for the ACLU.”

“Or be gay.”

They stood there in silence, each lost in their own dreams for Chaz.  “Whoa, I’m gonna be late,” said Che.  “I gotta catch the bus to work at the store.  We just got some new Indonesians herbs in yesterday that I want to try out.”

“Be safe, Che,” said Kat.  “I’ll leave the crisis center at 4 and change before I get home.  Don’t forget to water the cannabis.”